


Carry Me Home

by Texan_Red_Rose



Category: RWBY
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anti-Faunus Racism (RWBY), Ballroom Brawl, F/F, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Falling In Love, Making Out, Motorcycles, Multi, Polyamorous Character, Walk Into A Bar
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-22
Updated: 2018-10-22
Packaged: 2019-08-06 02:21:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16379579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Texan_Red_Rose/pseuds/Texan_Red_Rose
Summary: Sienna, leader of the unofficial militia that protects Faunus all over Remnant, isn't sure what she expected when she realized Winter Schnee, scion to one of the most troublesome and bigoted families in the world, had walked into her bar. A chance to publicly embarrass the family's patriarch, however, hadn't occurred to her; luckily, Winter's of the same mindset, and she's a fan of leather.





	Carry Me Home

**Author's Note:**

> Uh, somehow I thought I’d already posted this? But apparently I haven’t? Weird. Anyway, the reward for meeting one of October’s goals! Winter x Sienna fake dating AU, plus some Calichrome (not a triad; still working on that part) on the side.

Sienna scanned the interior of the bar, the light bass that pumped out of the speakers soothing her as much as the alcohol in her system. She’d already been out for a ride earlier, though she’d politely kept out of trouble this time if only to soothe Ghira’s nerves, but returning to the bar remained the best way to unwind after a long day. Faunus from all around came to the place- a true landmark, the first Faunus owned establishment in Atlas. It remained a bastion even after all these years where their people would always be welcome.

But her senses remained sharp, always alert to any danger. Sometimes, particularly problematic humans would come along, attempting to provoke them into a fight.

And Sienna? She’d  _give_ them that fight, to the point that it’d made Ghira turn grey at the temples but their paths had diverged long ago. Now, he stood as a pillar of the community while she… well… Sienna stood as a pillar of  _her_ community, the camaraderie of the White Fang Gang and the patrons of the bar. They achieved the same goals… just through different means.

Even she had her limits, though.

“Sienna?” Her ear flicked before she turned to face Corsac properly, though she didn’t bother getting up from her seat. She could tell just by the look on their faces what they would bring up and wouldn’t give it any serious thought. “We have a proposition.”

“What is it  _this_ time?” She drawled, sipping on her beer idly. Before they could start speaking, though, she held up a finger to stop them, lolling her head slightly. “And if I hear that bastard’s name come out of your mouth, I’m kicking  _both_ of you out for the night.”

“But, he has a point,” Corsac said, his brother beginning the pitch in earnest.

“We used to be feared all over Remnant. The White Fang Gang stood for something and now we’re a run-of-the-mill biker gang.” Fennec swept a hand to indicate the rest of the bar. “While we sit here and get drunk, the humans-”

“ _Also_ sit places and get drunk.” She rolled her eyes. True, some part of her longed for that days when they were as much a group a bikers as that of traveling warriors, showing up in force whenever bigoted humans thought they could intimidate Faunus in one way or another. But those were the old days. “We have to fight our enemies in the proper arenas. As long as we ride, we  _still_  stand for that desire to fight and protect what we’ve built. Our reputation hasn’t suffered. But we’re  _not_ hoodlums destroying property because it makes us feel good.” That last part she’d delivered with a sneer, showing clear disdain for the brat who’d dare try to usurp her control of the White Fang. “So unless you have something worthy of my time, go play pool, get drunk, or go home.”

“Sienna, we  _must_ be proactive-”

Shooting to her feet, she rounded on them, making both cower before her. Even if she didn’t  _typically_ employ intimidation anymore, that didn’t mean she’d lost her knack for it. “Are we not proactive? We have a community that spans all of Mantle, a free flow of resources to ensure no Faunus goes without food or shelter, that each and every one has a safe place to stay. I rode out today to act as guest speaker during a history lesson, to give an account of what Faunus have faced in the past, so our history isn’t forgotten.” Her eyes narrowed, ears laying back as neither Albain would raise their gaze to look her in the face. “Is that not proactive enough for you? Or do you only define ‘proactive’ by how much blood is shed?”

They didn’t dare lift their heads. As loyally as they seemed to follow that bullheaded idiot’s lead, at the end of the day, she was stronger, and they wouldn’t start a battle they knew they couldn’t win.

“Is everything alright?” Even over the music pulsing through the club, Tukson’s voice carried well as he stepped up into the booth area carrying two beers.

“Everything’s fine,” she replied, resuming her seat. “They were just leaving.”

Without another word, Corsac and Fennec left, brushing past the patrons and other White Fang bikers quickly. No doubt running back to tell how they’d failed, yet again, to persuade her.

“Let me guess.” Taking a seat beside her, Tukson offered one of the beers, though she still had half of hers left. “The Albains were trying to pass off Adam’s ideas as their own again.”

“I don’t understand their fanatical devotion to that cretin.” She scrunched up her nose and then sighed. “I suppose it’s my fault, in part. I shouldn’t have encouraged his more… violent inclinations.”

“It was a different time.” He shrugged. “The kid’s gone too far now; we all know it.”

Sienna remained silent, occupying herself with her beer. Frankly, some part of her missed the days when force was met with force, but she understood the need to be more… reactionary in that capacity now. Rather than picking fights, they attended rallies and protests and marches, acting as the muscle to discourage humans who refused to see them as equals. It worked- and rather well- but, sometimes, she got the itch to throw the first punch, too.

She just had self control.

Her ears flicked forward, picking up the sudden change in chatter that droned beneath the music, how movement suddenly stopped. Scanning the room, her gaze landed on the disruption- though the woman causing it appeared oblivious.

“Hey…” Tukson sat forward, a frown coming to his lips. “Isn’t that-”

“I do believe it is.” Sitting forward, she set down her beer. “Tonight’s about to get more interesting.”

* * *

Brushing past other patrons, Winter Schnee marched towards an empty seat at the bar, trying not to ground her teeth with every step. She’d made the foolish mistake of heading straight from the airship to the family mansion to meet with Father, hoping for a quick resolution to whatever errand General Ironwood had her running but no.

Of all the  _stupid_ , controlling, underhanded, low down-

“Can I help you?”

Absently, she noted the bartender’s stiff posture and tone, but couldn’t be bothered to care. Instead, she reached into the pocket of her uniform jacket and slapped down every lien she had, plus a card. “Double scotch. No, nevermind, the strongest you have instead, whatever it is, please.”

“It’s not that much-”

Her gaze flicked to meet his, trying to control her fury as best she could. “The lien is for encouragement; the card is for my tab. I’d thank you to trust that I know my limits.”

“Alright.” He reached beneath the bar with a nod, then coughed into his fist. “Just the one or…”

“If you could line up four more, it would save us both some time,” she replied, running a hand through her bangs while he complied with her request.

Being a soldier, she’d put up with her fair share of last minute changes and nigh impossible deadlines, but the stresses that came with military life paled in comparison to the ongoing agony of putting up with her family.

Well, she shouldn’t say that, seeing as she was actually rather fond of her sister, but with her brother taking more after their father than anything, and Father himself being just about the only person she could think of that she  _wouldn’t_ save from a burning building, the generalized statement remained true.

Some part of her thought that rather harsh, even if the sentiment only existed as a vague frustration vented in the privacy of her own mind- he  _was_ her father- but then she thought of all the reasons she had to be furious with the man, added on their conversation just an hour ago, and decided that she wouldn’t be remiss at all for such barefaced hatred. The entire reason she’d joined the military straight after university was to leave behind all the trapping and annoyances of her youth, to include his overbearing parenting, but he seemed determined to drag her back into it. Not for any sentimental reason, no, he just didn’t like the idea of someone being out from under his nerve.

She tossed back two of the shots the moment they were poured, the unfamiliar alcohol burning all the way down and making her almost regret her decision to drown her anger. The third went down much smoother, though, and the fourth almost felt pleasant.

A single night to drown her anger, to indulge it, before she buried it deep and muscled her way through the misery just like every time before.

With her fingers closing around the fifth, she paused to sigh and rub at her temple. Her last mission to Mistral had kept her at sea level for a few months and she hadn’t drank during that time; her tolerance must’ve quickly left her, for the alcohol to already be filtering into her system. The lack of food probably didn’t help.

Did this place sell food?

“You… want some more?” The bartender regarded her wearily while collecting up her empty glasses.

“Does this establishment sell food?” She ignored the question for the moment.

“No.”

“Fuck.” She ran a hand through her bangs again. “Just one more, then.”

Without food, she wouldn’t be able to sit there and drink all night- experience had taught her it was a good way to end up in someone’s bathtub, and she was running rather short on people in the area she could trust. Reporting to the Headquarters building  _just_ so General Ironwood could personally inform her that Jacques had  _somehow_ gotten him to  _order her_  to attend his stupid gathering left her without a unit to contact and she’d intentionally driven as far from the base itself as possible to put distance between herself and everyone she’d rather like to punch.

She didn’t even know the name of the  _bar_ , much less the town.

Tossing back the fifth shot, she slammed the glass onto the bar top with a bit too much force.

“You should be more careful.” Winter twisted around on the barstool, ready to snap at whoever had so foolishly intruded on an already bad day, but her gaze landed on a Faunus… with absolutely  _stunning_ amber eyes framed by dark stripes that stood out against chestnut colored skin. The words died on her lips as she stopped to take in the biking leathers, the metal of zippers catching the low light of the bar. Tall with a nigh regal air about her that seemed much larger, somehow filling Winter’s vision with her statuesque physique though they probably only differed by a few inches. Amidst short midnight black hair, two feline ears canted her way, the stripes on her arms clearly marking her as a tiger Faunus while the subtle definition indicated she was a warrior first and dignitary second. She couldn’t begin to decipher the meaning of the red mark in the center of her forehead but set that aside for the moment as she began to speak. “If you break a glass, you  _will_ be paying for it.”

Blue eyes darted to the recently emptied shot glass. “That’s… fair. And you are?”

“Sienna Khan.” With long, smooth strides, the Faunus claimed the seat beside her and set her beer down on the wood with a dull  _thunk_. “And this is  _my_  bar.”

“I apologize for my misconduct,” she replied, sitting up a bit straighter and making an  _attempt_ at controlling the light flush filling her cheeks. “I’m Winter.”

Somehow over the music, she heard the quiet chuckle that quite nearly sent shivers down her spine- likely due to the alcohol now crashing through her system. “I’m well aware of who you are.”

She looked away coughing into her hand and grabbing the next shot, thankful to see the bartender had another at the ready. “Forgive the attempt at anonymity.”

“Now isn’t that curious.” Sienna leaned against the bar and tilted her head. “Your family isn’t usually so keen on hiding themselves. Loud, proud, and rather… obnoxious, I suppose would be a polite way of putting it.”

With a shake of her head, she downed the next shot and set it on the counter- much softer this time. “While part of me recognizes it’s well deserved, another part of me is constantly at war with the idea of never escaping a legacy I didn’t build.”

“Turnabout  _is_ fair play.”

“Indeed it is.” She raised the next shot glass. “And here’s one to a lesson that never ends.”

Part of the reason she loathed attending any manner of family gathering tied  _directly_ to her Father’s awful personality and terrible business dealings. Their shared home life remained a point of contention as well but, ultimately, unrelated to the much longer problem he’d presented as being a complete and  _utter douche_.

Ah, the alcohol had started kicking in, it seemed.

“So, what brings the eldest scion of the Schnee lineage to a little Faunus owned bar?”

Winter turned her head, meeting those burning golden eyes. “A  _mighty_ need for alcohol.”

The laugh that answered her brought a little grin to her lips. “I suppose that’s the correct answer. Perhaps it’s on me for expecting a bigger reason.”

“Now  _that_  is a longer story and, frankly, you’d probably be amused by it.”

“Try me.”

Downing the next shot, Winter leaned back, keeping a firm grip on the bar to ensure she didn’t lose her seat. “My Father, in typical Jack-ass fashion, has opted to host an extravagant party, to which I am being  _ordered_ to attend by the military. Because otherwise, I wouldn’t want to be around those old, stuffy, bigoted, pieces of Grimm shit for anything.” Blinking her eyes, she noticed the fuzziness in her vision, leaning forward to rest her elbows on the bar. “I fought tooth and nail to get out of that house, away from  _him_. Weiss, too. Now we’re being forced back, like there’s chains about our throats. It’s absolutely abdominal.” … wait. “Abdominal? Abominable? That one.”

She reached forward to collect another shot but a hand landed on her wrist, gently stopping her just short. “As amusing as it would be to watch you drink yourself under the table, I think you should be at least somewhat coherent.”

“Any particle-  _particular_ reason?” Despite the occasional stumble, she remained remarkably in control of her facilities and aware of her surroundings. Like how Sienna leaned closer, using her foot to drag her stool near, and the mixed scents of gas and leather and sweat coming from her jacket, and the way her mouth quirked up into a smirk.

“Have you considered making your father  _regret_ forcing you to attend this party of his?”

Her eyes narrowed, unable to connect the dots- and she didn’t think that had anything to do with the alcohol. “How so?”

“Do you have a date?” Her smirk slowly pulled a little wider. “Because, unless I miss my guess, your father seems like the type who would sooner jump out a window than willingly stand in the same room as someone like me.”

Again, her gaze roved, at first missing the implication, because she saw nothing before her that would prompt  _her_ to leave a room- rather the opposite, in fact- but her father was a lesser creature. He’d turn his nose up at the riding leathers and stench of gasoline, he’d roll his eyes as the ink tattooed into her skin, and he’d absolutely go red in the face seeing a proud Faunus sitting at his dinner table.

“You… do you have  _any_  idea what you’re suggesting?” Her tongue darted out to lick her lips. “He’s not a man known for being reasonable or caring.”

“And I’m not known for being a doormat.” Sienna offered her hand. “Perhaps I forgot to mention. I’m the owner of this bar  _and_ the current leader of the White Fang Gang.”

The White Fang Gang- the unofficial militia turned motorcycle gang that had always stood ready to protect the Faunus all over Remnant. Painted as criminals by Father but more often than not merely toeing the lines of legality to ensure the safety of their own; she’d heard her fair share of stories about them, and far more  _correct_ versions during her tenure in the military. Just knowing the organization continued- and had gained favorable repute in recent years- nearly gave the man a heart attack whenever the news mentioned them. Having a member under his roof, and for that member to be the  _leader_?

Now, she’d caught on to  _exactly_  what Sienna was suggesting, leaving the alcohol alone and turning to face her, slipping her hand into the waiting one. “Would you like to be my date for the party and potentially send my father into an apoplectic fit?”

In those eyes, a fire ignited. “It would be my pleasure.”

* * *

Sienna, somehow, managed to reach her front door without too much difficulty, despite carrying over a hundred pounds of dead weight. “If I’d know you were this much of a lightweight, I would’ve cut you off sooner.”

“I’m  _not_ a lightweight; it’s the altitude,” the woman replied, words slurred but still  understandable, if barely. “Where are we again?”

“For the  _fifth_ time, my apartment.” She rolled her eyes but got the door open and carried Winter inside, having hoisted her onto her back when it became apparent that dismounting the motorcycle would be a  _bit_ too difficult. The ride from the bar hadn’t been eventful- in fact, she’d honestly though her passenger had fallen asleep- but her state had deteriorated rapidly between points A and B, making this next step a bit… sticky.

It had seemed like an entirely sound suggestion for them to head back to Sienna’s apartment, spend a bit of time in close proximity to really 'sell’ the idea that they were together, but that was when she thought the woman would be capable of standing on her own two feet. Now, going through with that idea felt disingenuous at best.

“I like your tattoos.” Kicking her door closed with her foot, she debated where to set down her drunken visitor while Winter continued mumbling into her shoulder. “I always wanted a tattoo.”

“Of what?” The couch was closer, so she felt a mighty temptation to set her there and grab an extra blanket she kept on hand, but it wouldn’t be very comfortable and it wasn’t very close to the bathroom. That could be mitigated with a trash can, of course, but she didn’t know if Winter would be able to  _aim_ well enough and scrubbing vomit from her carpet didn’t sound like how she wanted to spend the following morning.

“A bird.” One hand made a gesture that… probably would’ve resembled something, had she been sober, but came out more like an inelegant flap in a nonspecific direction. “Flying, free, perhaps a falcon of some sort.”

“You strike me as more of a swan, really.” Ultimately, she decided it would be poor manners to simply dump the woman on the couch. The bed was more comfortable anyway. “Why haven’t you gotten it?”

“I’m not very  _free_ , am I? Trading one set of chains for another.” A groan. “I shouldn’t say that. It’s insensitive.”

“I assure you I have much thicker skin than you seem to think.” She moved through the hallway leading back to her bedroom, careful not to drift too close to the walls. Not that Winter was waving her arms about but she’d rather not be picking up glass from a shattered picture frame. “Here, you can always speak freely. If you step out of line, I’ll be sure to educate you.” She toed her door open, momentarily regretting that she hadn’t exactly  _expected_ company but also not bothered by it. In all likelihood, the woman would stumble out of the bedroom before she’d completely sobered up and wouldn’t recall a bit of mess here and there. “And I’m beginning to see that it’s not an inaccurate description. Just avoid a direct comparison.”

“Of course. That makes sense.” Winter sighed. “Your hair smells nice.”

Sienna stopped at the side of her bed. “… thank you?”

“Skin, too.”

“Excuse me?”

“You just… smell good.” A slight groan. “I don’t look forward to waking up and realizing this is all a dream.”

A grin curled her lips. If someone asked her to imagine how a drunken Schnee scion might act, the reality would be just about the furthest thing from her mind. “Do your dreams often involve the smell of someone’s skin?”

“Only the really good ones.” With a bit of cajoling, Winter gained her feet, though she still clung to the Faunus’ arm as a means of steadying herself before ungracefully falling onto the bed. “Why did you get them? The tattoos?”

For a moment, she stood beside the bed, mulling over whether she should really answer that question or not. Admittedly, she probably shouldn’t, but part of the reason she’d invited the woman back to her apartment was so they could become more comfortable around each other. Hiding the truth seemed counter intuitive to that plan.

“There was a time when humans called Faunus nothing more than mindless animals.” She sat down on the edge, unzipping her jacket and peeling it off to put her arms on full display. “So I became the tiger of their nightmares, because not only did I bear the stripes and ears of one, I had a mind  _just_ as sharp as theirs. They’re a testament to how every insult they hurled at me just made me stronger than them.”

Blinking slowly, Winter watched her for a moment, obviously fighting the inclination to sleep. “You earned them.”

“I did. Through trial and tribulation, through every set back, I earned them.” She smiled. “And they’re nothing to be ashamed of.”

A few nods before her brow pinched together, realizing that perhaps she was too drunk to accomplish that sort of motion at present. “I think they’re rather fletching. What?  _Fetching_. Beautiful. Divine.”

“ _That_  is a step too far, I think.” Chuckling, she got up, helping the woman settle and pointing her towards the bathroom. She even flipped on the light and cracked the door, just in case she needed the extra assistance in the middle of the night.

With all that done, Sienna settled on her couch and idly wondered how the following morning would play out. On the one hand, they might still try to pull this off, and she stood a good chance of making a massively public statement without spilling an ounce of blood. On the other… it could be  _very_  awkward if Winter had no recollection of that conversation.

She’d find out in the morning, one way or another.

* * *

Sienna carefully crept down the hallway, alert for any sounds. She’d woken up shortly after dawn and opted to doze while waiting for her guest to join her but, with the hour just shy of midday, she had to admit to some… serious concern. Surely Winter had to be awake by now, unless she’d somehow slipped out in the middle of the night, and there still remained the question of just what sort of person would wake up. Provided she woke up, of course, though she seriously doubted the woman had imbibed  _that_ much in the short time she was at the bar.

From the door, she could hear the gentle sound of the woman breathing, deep and even, and carefully pushed it open.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” she said softly, leaning against the doorjamb for a moment. Apparently, Winter was a  _very_ messy sleeper, though that might be because she fell asleep three sheets to the wind. Experience had taught the Faunus that waking up someone who didn’t have their bearings could be a dangerous affair-  _especially_  if that person happened to be trained in any manner of combat- so she merely raised her voice. “Time to wake up.”

“I am on  _leave_ , I wake up when I  _damn well feel like it_ ,” Winter replied, voice thick with sleep and not moving a muscle in the process.

“You may be on leave but you’re in  _my_  bed.”

A moment of silence before the woman suddenly jerked upright, scrubbing at her eyes and casting around before settling her gaze on the Faunus. “… it wasn’t a dream?”

Sienna shook her head and crossed her arms over her chest. “Though, if sober you has reservations, we needn’t proceed with our plan. Sometimes liquor pulls from us things best left resting.”

She looked away, obviously contemplating whether or not to go through with it, but when she looked back, blue eyes seemed focused on the ink on her arms before moving up to her face. “Is breakfast or lunch more appropriate?”

“I know a place that sells both.” Her attention fell to the wrinkled clothing the woman slept in, the military uniform beyond wearable at this point. “But you aren’t leaving here dressed like that.”

The smirk that curled Winter’s lips bolstered her confidence. “I would be delighted if I could borrow something more appropriate.”

Walking over to her closet, Sienna threw it open to reveal a  _fair_ amount of leather. “Let’s see if I have something in your size.”

After picking out a suitable outfit and seeing Winter bedecked in riding leathers, with her hair down and a smirk on her lips… she had to admit some part of her regretted that this entire venture would only last until the party.

* * *

During her life, Winter had imagined more than once wiping the smug look off Father’s face. She thought joining the military might do it, denying anything to do with the family legacy, perhaps even flippantly insulting him whenever some reporter chased her down for a sound bite, but it had never worked. He looked at her as he always did, with that stern tilt to his jaw, as if she was just another stone he had to step on to continue on his path. It infuriated her more than she’d ever admit.

But with the roar of Sienna’s motorcycle ringing in her ears as they pulled up to the estate a short week later, the potential for what awaited her… honestly, she almost didn’t care. It would be  _good_  of course, and something she’d look back upon often after he disowned her- or whatever other manner of 'punishment’ he might dream up- but it wouldn’t be the highlight of the night for her.

No, that spotlight had already been stolen entirely.

Sienna had forgone her usual riding leathers for a more formal outfit- a bit awkward to wear with their chosen method of transportation, but she made it work- wedge heels that gave her just a  _few_  more inches and an intricate shawl dyed blood red. Not exactly subtle but it fit her so well, enhanced the cutting look in her eyes, and Winter  _knew_ , the moment she saw her, that she would be entering the mansion with the most gorgeous date.

Though, only for the night.

As they pulled up to the gate, she reached out and punched a code into the keypad, allowing the gate to swing open. She could see on the ride up the drive that they weren’t the first to arrive but certainly not the last; Father had taken up a position at the top of the steps leading into the mansion, obviously awaiting their arrival.

Unlike the first time she’d rode on the bike, drunkenly slumped against Sienna’s back, this time she had her arms firmly secured around the Faunus’ waist, squeezing lightly and tilting her head to speak into the special holes cut into her helmet to allow her ears free movement.

“He’s watching us.”

“Then let’s give him a show,” she replied, revving the engine and shooting them forward before coasting to a stop off to the side of the drive- within easy reach if they had to make a quick escape.

The moment the engine died, Father began his tirade. “Winter, where have you been?”

Reaching up, she pulled off her helmet-  _her_ helmet, because borrowing Sienna’s extra one made her feel awkward, seeing as she didn’t have a second set of ears to fill the spaces- and ran a hand through her hair. “I’m on leave, Father, and I decided to spend my vacation with my girlfriend.”

She dismounted the motorcycle first, the creaking of her leather jacket music to her ears. She hadn’t bought herself a new wardrobe in years- the military provided her with work and workout attire, and her 'social life’ may as well be nonexistent- but riding leathers of her own, ones that fit her style and her frame, gave her just a bit more confidence as she met his gaze. Truly, she relished the rising tide of fury turning his delicate skin the same shade as a tomato, but turned her attention away to offer a hand as Sienna dismounted.

“Thank you, my Seraph.” Removing her own helmet brought her ears out on display, the appendages rotating and wiggling as they often did whenever freed from the constraint. They both set their helmets down on the seat, Winter offering her arm and smiling softly.

They’d spent the past week… well… getting closer, would be one way to put it. Trading simple information at first, over brunch at a Faunus owned bistro that served some of the best food she’d ever had. But, when the night came, Winter found herself reluctant to either return to her family home or retreat to a hotel room, so she found herself on Sienna’s couch- after a brief argument, to be sure, but she didn’t think it appropriate to kick her host out of her own bed. They spent a few days practicing simple motions, like the casual touches that would naturally come between partners, sitting close together on the couch while watching television, dancing at the bar whenever there were few patrons to object to the change in music, and the like. Winter honestly had never felt more comfortable around someone.

“Father, I’d like to properly introduce you,” she said, tearing her gaze away to look at the man- and they very well might push him into a heart attack before they even hit the door, given how he was shaking with barely contained rage. “This is Sienna-”

“I know. Who she is.” Through gritted teeth and with an artery pulsing at his temple, he looked at both of them with utter contempt. “How dare you-”

“Please, don’t hold it against her, Sir.” Sienna’s voice was smoother than silk and sweeter than the finest sugar, because they both knew  _that_ would piss him off  _much_  worse than if she scoffed in his face. “She’s always so mindful of the family legacy.”

“Of course.” Winter chuckled warmly, pouring it on thick as she spied  _just_  what she wanted to see out of the corner of her eye. “I know how dalliances would look in the public eye, Father. I wanted to ensure we were serious and committed before going public with our relationship.”

Before he had the chance to blow up, they all heard the  _snap_ of a scroll picture being taken a moment before some reporter or other darted up to the trio with his device out and most likely recording. “Miss Schnee, can you confirm that on the record? You two are dating?”

“We are indeed,” she replied, a soft chuckle passing her lips as Sienna pressed a kiss against the top of her head.

Father opened his mouth, likely to deliver one of his famous, grave 'a word in my study,  _now_ ’ lines, but his attention got pulled away as a limo started up the drive. With Klein in the front seat- and Whitley living at the mansion- he’d obviously just returned with Weiss, whom she  _hoped_ would simply shrug off being informed about her supposed girlfriend. They kept in touch more regularly in recent years but… well, she couldn’t be  _exactly_ sure how her sister might react.

Until the limo came to a stop and Klein hurried to the door, opening it with a beaming smile hiding beneath his bushy mustache.

And he had  _every_ reason to do so.

Weiss got out first, of course, but she immediately turned around and offered a hand to her date- someone Winter immediately recognized from her sister’s correspondence, even if they’d never been formally introduced.

“Blake.” Her own date smiled even wider, obviously enjoying this stroke of luck. “What a wonderful surprise.”

“Sienna?” Feline ears- not the same size or shape as the tiger Faunus’, and idly she wondered about that- perked up as she laughed, though it sounded somewhat forced. “I didn’t expect to see  _you_ here.”

“Well, my sweet Seraph only informed me a week ago that we’d be attending.” She gestured to Winter, and something must’ve been communicated in that gesture because Blake  _immediately_  relaxed.

“See?” Weiss- either playing along or being entirely genuine, it was difficult to tell- turned her attention towards her date. “I  _truly_ informed you as soon as I knew.”

“I never said you didn’t,” Blake replied, offering a hand to a  _third_ person exiting the limo. “I just  _wished_ for more warning; Ilia and I  _did_ have a date planned for tonight.”

Another Faunus stepped out- this one unfamiliar to Winter, but about the same age as her sister, and she might’ve missed the brilliant red flush to her skin if she hadn’t been so curious- and grey eyes flicked between Weiss and Blake before a scoff left her lips. “I still say this is breaking the rules.”

“I will  _absolutely_ make it up to you.” She reached up, pushing her bangs away from her eyes, highlighting the lack of foundation to cover her scar. “I promise-”

“Who. Are. They?” If Father wasn’t close to some manner of aneurysm before, he  _certainly_ had to be on the verge of one now.

“Oh, forgive my manners, Father.” Weiss turned. “This is my girlfriend, Blake, and her girlfriend, Ilia.”

The reporter, who’d shied away when it looked like Father might make a scene, snapped another picture of the trio, drawing a heated glare from the man as he struggled with trying to formulate words.

Although aware of it, she didn’t particularly care.

“ _Her_ girlfriend?” Winter raised a brow, certain she’d missed some manner of nuance.

Sienna put a hand on the small of her back, a soothing gesture. “Oh, Blake’s polyamorous; her partners don’t always date each other.”

“Ah.” She couldn’t admit that she didn’t  _quite_ understand the concept so instead offered a hand to both of them. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Weiss’ sister, Winter.”

“We’ve heard a lot about you,” Blake said, offering a small smile and subtly nudging Ilia into at least shaking her hand.

With a huff and something… almost like a  _growl_ , Father turned on heel and  _marched_ inside, all the while muttering beneath his breath and being trailed by the reporter at a safe distance. Some part of her relished it but she didn’t watch longer than absolutely necessary, instead turning her attention to her sister as a question nagged at the back of her mind.

“Last I heard, you two were just friends.” She motioned between Weiss and Blake. “How long have you been dating?”

Almost immediately, her sister’s composure crumbled. “Uh, well,  _officially_ dating is- that, I mean, I don’t exactly remember  _when_ -”

“Three weeks,” Blake replied, her ears twitching slightly as she wrapped an arm around one girlfriend’s waist. “She wanted to tell you but… thought doing so in person would be better.”

A frown tugged at her lips as her brows furrowed. “While I appreciate the consideration, I would’ve been happy to know sooner. I’m glad your studies abroad aren’t your sole focus.” Her gaze drifted to Ilia. “And thank you.”

“Me?” Seemingly taken aback, she looked at the others, her high ponytail whipping to the side slightly before her eyes narrowed. “For what?”

“I don’t…  _exactly_ understand what polyamorous is-”

“Polyamory.” Sienna gently corrected, chuckling. “I’ll explain it later.”

“I appreciate that.” She nodded before continuing her thought. “Anyway, while I don’t understand it, I do realize that it must be a unique position you’re in, and I’d like to thank you for giving my sister this opportunity. I’ve always worried she’d be a bit too closed off to form close relationships-”

The hand at the small of her back slipped beneath her jacket, the surprising touch cutting her short. “I realize your intentions but I  _think_ you might be embarrassing her.” Confused, she looked over to find Weiss looking a touch… shocked, she would say, though a blush had started in her cheeks and crept down her neck, but any attempt to further investigate was stopped when Sienna very gently prodded her up the steps. “Perhaps it would be better to have those conversations privately, and not before the sort of night we are expecting.”

Winter pressed her lips into a line for a moment before acquiescing, heading through the double doors that served as the entrance to the mansion. “I… suppose you have a point.”

“If it helps, I’m quite certain Blake’s genuinely interested in her.”

For a moment, she considered replying with 'as opposed to us’ but the words… well, after spending so much time with Sienna, she had to admit that she didn’t look forward to the end of the party, when they’d undoubtedly part ways. She still had to go back after her leave ended and the Faunus had a bar and biker group to run.

They could probably stay in touch, though. After all this, it wouldn’t be too much of a stretch to propose remaining friends, right?

… although that would mean she’d have to return Sienna’s jacket at some point, the very one she was wearing, with the White Fang emblem on the back.

“Something’s troubling you,” Sienna said as they strolled through the foyer, past several servants who seemed hard pressed to hide their amusement.

“Have you… given any thought to what will happen after the night ends?” She cleared her throat as they stepped into the main ballroom, where guests were mingling and whispering to each other, more than a few throwing curious- and barely concealed disgusted- looks at them, not that either cared. “What I mean is, well, are we going to remain in contact after this?”

A hum answered her at first as her ears flicked around, catching the quiet conversations better than she could. “What are your thoughts on the matter?” One corner lifted up in a wry smirk. “I’m already here so I’ll not be running off in the middle of the party, if that’s your concern. You can be honest and it won’t change the outcome of the night.”

“I’d very much like to continue talking,” she said, flashing a polite smile at one of the waiters while plucking two flutes of champagne from his tray, offering one to her date. “I’ll have to return to Mistral at the end of the week, though, and my next leave won’t be for another few months, at least.”

“I never thought I’d say these words.” Sienna accepted the flute and lightly clinked them together in a toast. “But I’m happy to have made a friend in the Atlesian military.”

Although 'friend’ wasn’t…  _quite_ the word she would’ve wanted to hear, Winter smiled all the same and took a sip. “Likewise for the White Fang. Perhaps next leave, you’ll teach me how to ride?”

“I can do that but I must warn you, you’ll have to pick out your own bike.”  She nodded her head towards the entrance, indicating her own motorcycle. “You can learn on mine but I don’t ride bitch for anyone.”

“I’d have it no other way.” They both laughed, lightly, perfectly at ease despite the rising tide of outrage surrounding them, which only doubled when Weiss walked in with her own dates. Or… date? “Now, about this polyamorous thing-”

“Polyamory.” Sienna rolled her eyes, though she didn’t seem too upset over her continued confusion. “I’m surprised you’re unfamiliar with the concept.”

“Enlighten me, please.”

“It’s when-” Suddenly her ears flicked and her brows pinched together, turning towards the entrance to the ballroom. Whatever had caught her attention seemingly also caught Blake’s, causing her to turn around as well, and that set both Ilia and Weiss on edge. “Don’t tell me he’s that stupid.”

Before Winter had a chance to ask, she caught the reverberating roar of several motorcycles…  _inside_ the house, by the sound of it, and that proved true a moment later when three motorcycle roared into the ballroom, one after another. Her first thought was to pull Sienna out of harm’s way but she got beaten to the punch when an arm wrapped around her waist and lifted  _her_ just far enough off her feet to be moved back safely while several shouts of alarm from the other guests. Thankfully, the ruffians crashing the party didn’t seem inclined to run anyone over, coming to a stop in the middle of the room and shutting off their engines.

“I’m guessing they’re not friends of yours.” She ventured, setting down her champagne and watching who appeared to be the ring leader of the trio- a bull Faunus with horns sweeping back over his red hair, having ridden in sans helmet.

“More like unruly children I’m forced to babysit.” Sienna sighed, drawing herself up to her full height. “Adam, you absolute fool. Just  _what_  are you hoping to accomplish?”

“You mean aside from justice?” He sneered, hands clenched into fists. “The White Fang’s grown weak under your leadership. It’s time we take things in a… different direction.”

“I don’t know how many times I have to tell you that going to war is a bad idea.” With slow, deliberate movements, she reached up and unhooked the pin keeping her shawl in place. “But if it’s a fight you want, I’m more than happy to oblige.” As the red fabric fell away, she turned her head to look at Winter. “Have you ever been in a bar fight?”

“Can’t say that I have,” she replied.

“First rule: only grab a weapon you can use,” she said, wasting no time in kicking her leg out and hooking her foot around a nearby chair, pulling it towards her and unseating the stunned man formerly occupying it. In one smooth motion, she folded it closed and lifted it up, grabbing the chair by the legs while Adam pulled a metal bat from the side of his bike. “Second rule: everything’s a weapon if you know what you’re doing.”

Winter watched, slightly stunned, as the other two Faunus- on one she could quite tell, but the ears on the other pointed to some manner of fox- charged forward with switchblades in their hands. They were both soundly met with the chair, Sienna hitting one and using the rebound to strike the other. She thought it would be then that this Adam character would strike, but he’d gotten distracted while glancing around the room.

“You.” So much vile hatred packed into a single syllable as he stared at Blake across the ballroom, taking a menacing step forward. “It’s almost like fate’s brought us together again, my darling.”

Quickly looking around, Winter couldn’t quite find a recognizable weapon- plenty of paintings of Father, but not a single sword, even a decorative one, really, did the man’s ego know no bounds- but opted to simply follow Sienna’s lead, grabbing an empty chair and folding it in before coming up behind the Faunus with the ears and slamming the chair against his back. Sure, it probably counted as a bit underhanded, but she was also only armed with a chair while they had knives, so it  _probably_ balanced out.

While the two renegade Faunus stumbled and groaned from their injuries, Winter stepped up beside Sienna with confusion plain in her voice as she watched Adam’s lunge miss its intended target. “I thought he was here to fight you; why is he going after Blake?”

“Because he’s an idiot who doesn’t understand the word 'no’, and that’s the answer to almost any question you ask,” she replied, pressing their advantage and delivering another wicked blow to one’s head while Winter caught the other as he tried to help, both blows resounding with rather satisfying thuds. “He’s never been the most focused, except when blinded by rage, and he possesses absolutely no foresight.”

“Then let’s use that.” She waited a moment until it looked like Adam might to lunge for Blake again, who’d broke away from Weiss and Ilia to draw his attention, before tossing her chair at him, the top of it catching his cheek solidly.

Shaking his head to clear it, his eyes fell upon her with the full strength of his rage.

“Good rule of thumb,” Sienna said while stepping in front of her. “Don’t throw away a weapon unless you’ve got a better one handy.”

“I wasn’t throwing it away; I was handing it off,” she replied as Blake, seeing her opportunity, grabbed the chair and cracked Adam across the back of his head with it while Ilia disarmed one of the underlings and Weiss tackled the other to the ground. As the bull Faunus slumped to the ground, Winter plucked the bat from his limp grip, though she didn’t have much reason to use it now. “See?”

“I stand corrected.” Those golden eyes flicked over her and she couldn’t help but preen a little bit. “You’re rather good in a fight.”

“I’m better with a sword.” Purely for the purposes of showing off, she flipped the bat around, the weight of it hardly a problem after so many years spend studying swordplay. “Though I’ve never seen anyone wield a folding chair with such expert grace.”

“I learned from the best.” Her attention slid to Blake as she pointedly dropped the chair on Adam’s unconscious form for good measure. “Your mother, specifically.”

“So I’ve heard; never thought I’d have a chance to live up to her example.” With a small nod, she excused herself to check on Weiss and Ilia, both of whom seemed to be having a quiet conversation that looked far more friendly than their interaction before.

“Klein.” Winter turned, handing over the bat. “Keep this somewhere close by and call the authorities. Let them know we’ve dealt with some party crashers and we’d appreciate their assistance.”

“I’m afraid I’ll need to step out and make a call.” A frown touched Sienna’s lips. “Although Adam’s been… removed from our ranks, the other two are still active White Fang members and I’ll need to spread the word that their actions tonight have changed that. I’ll not waste our community resources on them.” She looked over at the motorcycles. “Could you ensure their bikes are impounded? They’ve certainly forfeited any right to them.”

“I’ll see to it, Ma'am.” Klein bowed before shuffling away, bat in hand.

Winter turned her head, flashing a small smile towards some of the other guests. “We do apologize for the interruption. Please, everyone, continue with your evening.”

“Is that all you have to say?” Her gaze slid over to see Father fuming as he entered the room. “That degenerate you call a date brought her filthy friends-”

In that moment, something happened that had never occurred before, because for all the times the man tried to get under her skin, she’d retained her poised at least until she left his presence. It was a skill Weiss didn’t possess, always quicker to talk back, to show her emotions, but Winter never let him see her break composure. That, she would only allow in private, away from his judgmental gaze.

But that didn’t hold true now.

“Shut your  _fucking_ mouth,” she said, meeting his gaze evenly. “I know your mind’s too small to think outside the box you’ve built around yourself, so allow me to translate into words you  _do_ understand. Sienna was just violently attacked by a political opponent, purely because bigoted curmudgeons like  _you_ continuously resist all attempts to be decent and fair people. Were you a little less of a  _blithering idiot_ , this whole mess could’ve been avoided, much like the recent poor turn your quarterly reports have taken.” A pause, only long enough for him to think her finished, and then she continued. “It’s really no wonder the only people willing to be near you have to be compensated for burden.”

It remained one of the family’s most guarded secrets. That about half of their supposed status and respect in Atlas was bought and paid for with 'donations’ made almost every month. That the  _real_  reason any threats to the SDC’s bottom line were considered so dire was that it would ruin the reputation Father had built. Where their maternal Grandfather had built his legacy upon being a good man, Father could only buy a shadow of the same, and Winter and Weiss knew it.

She knew, by the shaking in his voice and the look in his eyes, that she’d finally crossed the line. “Get out and  _do not_  come back.”

“Gladly,” she replied with a smile on her lips, turning and offering her arm to Sienna. “Shall we?”

“Let’s.”

She caught Weiss’ eye and noted the look of pride touched with a bit of jealousy- because she would’ve  _loved_ to be the one to tear him down like that- as well as the flash of the reporter’s scroll as they left. Frankly, she hoped the caption read that it was one of the proudest moments of her life, because that would be true, but she looked forward to seeing how badly the man wanted it changed. Regardless, being disowned would be impossible to cover up, and no doubt General Ironwood would address the matter personally if asked for comment. Watching the fireworks fly during  _that_ interview would be something she’d also anticipate.

“I’d call this a rather successful night.” Winter nodded to herself. “Pity it has to end so early.”

“The bar’s still open.” Sienna pointed out, withdrawing her arm- which quite nearly caused her to frown- only to wrap it around the woman’s shoulders. “But I think we should go to the tattoo parlor, first.”

“Another stripe?”

“No. A swan, for you.” She smiled, briefly glancing behind them. “I’d say you’ve earned it.”

She smiled, then, and felt even more pleased with herself than before. It must’ve clouded her judgment for a moment because she stopped dead in her tracks, slipped a hand to the back of Sienna’s neck, and pulled her down into a firm kiss.

In the back of her mind, she panicked, because she’d just  _grievously_ overstepped their agreement, but the vast majority of her didn’t particularly care in the moment. However, as she pulled away, a blush began to rise in her cheeks that she fervently tried to beat down while looking away.

“I- I apologize. I shouldn’t have-”

Fingers grabbed her jaw- gently, but firm enough that she couldn’t imagine not complying as they redirected her back to meet those shining golden eyes.

“I agree.” Then, Sienna smirked, that same expression she wore when the first met, a look that came to her several times whenever she had an idea she wished to pursue. “You shouldn’t have pulled away so quickly.”

Twenty minutes later, while people left the party and the police showed up to deal with Adam, Jacques came out to try and dissuade some of his 'friends’ from considering withdrawing their support from the SDC. He didn’t get very far, of course, seeing as he got sidetracked when he caught sight of them enthusiastically making out, Winter with her back pressed up against the side of the mansion and legs wrapped around Sienna’s waist, and it took him screaming until he was almost blue in the face for them to stop.

Rather than bother listening or replying, Sienna just rolled her eyes, gathered Winter up in her arms, and started heading for her bike. A proud soldier she might be but the woman found herself rather enjoying her girlfriend’s growing habit of carrying her places.

All in all, the best decision she’d ever made, and Winter casually flipped Jacques off while informing Weiss- who seemed absolutely beside herself with glee as she and her dates prepared to leave for the evening- that she’d be heading out to get a tattoo and that they should meet up for lunch sometime before she left for Mistral.

She never could’ve guessed that going to a bar with the explicit intention of getting hammered out of fury would turn out so well… but neither was she complaining.

**Author's Note:**

> As always, you can check my tumblr for more info/shenanigans/other things that I forget to post- I swear, I'm trying to get better on that front. Anyway, thanks for reading!


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